Easy as ABC
by TantalumCobolt
Summary: A collection of random 100 word drabbles, one for each letter of the alphabet.


**A collection of random 100 word drabbles. Some are set pre-series, some are set during the series, and some can be either.**

**Enjoy!**

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**Ate:**

Dean was thirteen when he was first arrested. He can't remember the specifics; just that an officer had picked him up on a lonely street late at night in yet another middle-of-nowhere town and he'd spent the night in a cell.

He remembers being angry; at the officer who'd arrested him, at his father for not being around, and at himself for getting caught. And he remembers being resigned; there is no smart way to escape from a holding cell, after all.

The worst, though, was the guilt that ate at him all night because he'd left Sammy alone; unprotected.

**Buying:**

Sam's large, doe-like eyes blink innocently up at him from his place amongst the carnage.

When Bobby had stepped outside only minutes before-hand the living room had been as neat and as chaotically tidy as it always had been, but now it seemed like a bomb had gone off in the room. And in the middle of it all sits the wide-eyed four year old.

The kid insists that Rumsfeld is the cause of the disaster that is now his living room, but the old hunter isn't buying it. The kid just looks too damn innocent to not be guilty!

**Circular:**

Everything is going well until the furious ghost decides to throw Sam down the stairs.

Halfway down Sam's head connects with the wooden banister and everything becomes blurred; just flashes of colour between the black spots dancing in front of his eyes. He's vaguely aware of Dean half-carrying him to the Impala and into the motel room. The softness of the bed and reassuring calm of Dean's voice is welcoming as his brother rubs his hand along his shoulder in a familiar, circular motion.

Now, he lets himself sleep. Tomorrow they'll kill the son of a bitch who did this.

**Digest:**

'I'm not coming back, Dean.' Sam pauses, waiting for his brother to digest his words. 'If I walk out that door, I'm not going to walk back in. Ever.'

Dean is silent for a long time before he finally speaks. 'Okay.'

Sam can't work out if he's relieved or disappointed that Dean isn't going to try to stop him. He'd made it clear that he didn't want this life, that this was his opportunity to get out and that he intended to take it, but if Dean had asked him to stay…

He'd do anything for his brother; even hunting.

**Error:**

If they're still alive in a couple of years, they may remember this and laugh. But at the moment, it's really not amusing.

Dean had gotten a phone call from Bobby earlier; a few suspicious deaths in a small town in Montana. 'Could be a case,' he'd said. It was a case; nothing complicated, just a vengeful spirit haunting the local mechanic. It would have been a simple salt and burn. Except… they'd dug up the wrong bones.

Dean is adamant that the plot number was wrong because of a stupid error in the county records, Sam's not so sure.

**Fairness:**

Dean is sure that there is no fairness in the situation whatsoever. Just because he's sick – and, really, it's just a cold – doesn't mean he has to stay with Bobby while Dad takes Sam hunting. He's almost sixteen, for crying out loud; shouldn't he be allowed to make his own decisions?

Dad had said no, though, and when John Winchester says no it's best to just nod and agree. Which (quite smartly) is what he'd done.

So now he's lying on Bobby's lounge under a threadbare blanket, bored out of his mind while Sam gets to have all the fun.

**Goody:**

Sam hesitates when Dean asks if he's figured out what they're dealing with. His brother is going to be pissed, but Sam figures it will probably be better if he just tells him. 'It's a witch.'

'Oh goody!' Dean's sarcasm is practically tangible. 'How do we kill it?'

Sam hesitates again. 'I don't know.'

For a long time, Dean just stares at him. 'Well, that's just freakin' brilliant, that is. What good are you if you can't even figure out how to kill one measly little witch?'

The younger Winchester shrugs; arguing with Dean won't help them kill the witch.

**Hammer:**

Sam knows that Dean keeps a lot of unusual tools and other odd paraphernalia in the back of the Impala. He also knows that each item has a purpose and that everything is there for a reason. That's why this one draws his attention; he can't figure out why Dean has it.

If they lived normal lives and the tools Dean kept in his car were for normal uses, it would be obvious. But they don't, and they aren't. So he wonders.

He could ask Dean, but Sam's not sure he _wants_ to know why his brother has a hammer.

**Info:**

The info they'd been given had been dodgy.

That's Dean's foolproof reasoning for how they ended up chained and dangling from the roof of an abandoned mineshaft. And, because the excuse of dodgy intel isn't enough, Dean has even come up with a person to blame. Apparently, it's all Bobby's fault.

The old hunter had given them the case and all the necessary information, including his theory of what they were dealing with. It turns out Bobby had been wrong. Which, in Dean's mind, is reason enough to blame him for their impending death at the hands of the Wendigo.

**Jack:**

'Dean!' Sam's yell echoed through the bunker. 'Do you know a… Jack McDonald?'

The answer floats back form the direction of the kitchen. 'No.'

When there is no reply Dean thinks his brother has dropped the subject, until Sam appears in the doorway. 'Oh, really? Is that why you have his credit card… and his license… and his car keys… and everything else in his wallet?'

Dean coughs to hide a sheepish smile. 'What if I told you I was planning to give it all back?'

Sam huffs. 'Dammit Dean, what did we agree about stealing?'

'…not to do it?'

**Knock:**

Dean glances over at his brother in the passenger seat (and isn't that something he hasn't been able to do for a while?). Sam has been oddly silent since they left Stanford and it's a little unnerving. Dean is getting ready to break the almost-uncomfortable silence when Sam (finally!) speaks.

'You didn't have to break in, you know.'

Dean is taken aback by the sudden comment. 'What?'

Sam runs his fingers through his ever-lengthening hair. 'All you had to do was knock.'

'It was three am. You were asleep.'

Sam shoots him an irritated look. 'Not once you broke in.'

**Long:**

Dean tries to put off calling Uncle Bobby or Pastor Jim or Caleb for as long as possible, but it's now been almost two days since Dad left. That usually isn't a problem, but Dad had said he'd only be a couple of hours.

His fingers shake as he punches in the numbers and he holds his breath while the phone rings.

'Hello?'

Dean lets out a breath that is almost a sob. 'Uncle Bobby, it's Dean-'

The door slams opens and John stands outlined in the doorway. The phone lays forgotten as Dean throws himself into his father's arms.

**Might:**

When Bobby stumbles through the front door close to midnight he's not expecting anyone else to be there. Well, of course he isn't, he'd only been gone a couple of hours. A hunter would have called and nobody would be stupid enough to break in.

But there are definitely two human-shaped lumps on his lounge.

'Bobby?' The sleepy voice of Dean Winchester answers all his questions. Well, all except one.

'Did you idjits break into my house?'

'We might have.' Sam mumbles.

There is a jingling sound as Dean holds up his spare key. 'Or we might have used this.'

**Natural:**

When they'd shown up at the crime scene, hands already reaching for their FBI badges, they hadn't expected the day to turn out like this. A harried woman had immediately spotted them and hurried over.

'Gentlemen,' she'd greeted. 'I'm Kate; I work for Child Services. Which one of you is Lizzy's uncle?'

Dean hadn't even hesitated before answering. 'That would be me.'

'Oh, thank goodness! She's been screaming non-stop since it happened and nobody can calm her down…'

Later, after the four-year-old has stopped crying, Dean grins at Sam and Bobby's gaping looks. 'What can I say? I'm a natural.'

**Occurrence:**

'Well, well, well boys. This is getting to be a regular occurrence, isn't it?'

Dean glares at the demon. 'Shut it, Crowley, before I shut it for you.'

Crowley's lips twitch in a way that could be called a smile. 'And how are you going to do that, squirrel? In case you haven't noticed, you're hands are cuffed together and your ankle is shackled to the floor.'

Dean growls. 'When I get out of here I'm going to-'

'That's enough.' Sam interrupted. 'Are you here to mock us or rescue us, Crowley?'

Crowley snaps his fingers. 'Always so impatient, moose…'

**Purple:**

'Happy Birthday, Dean!'

An overly enthusiastic toddler jumping on his bed isn't Dean's favourite way to wake up in the morning, but it's his birthday and Sammy's excitement is contagious so he can't complain.

The toddler grins toothily. 'I got you a present, Dean!'

Dean eyes the lump of purple wrapping paper in his brother's hands with some trepidation. Sam means well, but his gifts can be a little… unusual. Today is no exception and Dean struggles to keep the confused frown off his face when he pulls out a plastic container full of sand. He'll never understand Sammy's gifts…

**Queue**

'Sammy…' Even to his ears the word sounds like a whine and Dean hurries to correct his tone. 'How much longer do we have to wait?'

Sam sigh, clearly irritated with the question (and who can blame him when it's the tenth time he's heard it in the last five minutes?). 'I don't know, Dean.'

'Bloody lot of good you are…'

Sam chooses to ignore the muttered words as they shuffle forward ever so slightly in the queue. There are thirty seconds of blissful silence before…

'Sammy…'

Sam groans, trying to resist the urge to hit his annoyingly impatient brother.

**Rushing:**

John generally doesn't like rushing things, especially not hunts. If something is rushed there is a greater chance of mistake, and mistakes are something that can't be afforded in his line of work. But this time he makes an exception.

The hunt promised to be quick and easy, less than a day's work, so John had left the boys at a motel and driven to the next town over. Then Dean had called to say that something had happened to Sammy, so John is rushing to finish and get back to his boys. He just hopes he won't regret it.

**Statement:**

Detective Jones has been on the force a long time, and in that time she's seen a lot of strange things and encountered a lot of odd people, but this one takes the cake. The Winchesters are infamous in the law enforcement world for their daring crimes across the United States and the Detective has finally gotten a lead on where they might be hiding out.

…but the young, redheaded woman's statement doesn't make a lot of sense.

'They have a batcave,' she'd said. 'With a dungeon, which is so damn cool!'

She had to be lying, or crazy… right?

**Tower:**

Dean is convinced he jinxed himself by telling Pastor Jim that Sammy would never be taller than him. That is the only explanation he can think of because, hey, he's not exactly short, and it's not like their parents are giants or anything.

Sam had stayed with Pastor Jim for a month to finish school while Dean and John hunted and it is nothing short of a shock when they return and Dean has to actually look up at his brother.

'You're like a walking, talking, human tower, dude.' Dean teases, because he can't deny that Sam is freakin _tall!_

**Unadulterated:**

Dean can feel his brother's disapproving look from across the room, but he chooses to ignore it. He has far more important things to focus his attention on. Specifically; the slice of heaven resting on his plate. He has just swallowed his first mouthful and is savouring the delicious taste when Sam speaks up.

'How can you eat that crap?'

If Dean had been eating, he would have choked. 'Crap? It is not crap! It is sweet, heavenly-'

'Pure, unadulterated sugar.' Sam interrupts. 'It really isn't good for you.'

Dean shakes his head. 'Pie is always good for you, Sammy.'

**Vulcan:**

Sam spares a glance at his brother to see if Dean's as baffled as he is. Dean doesn't appear to be confused, though, just… gleeful?

'Let me get this straight.' The older Winchester addresses their witness. 'He came into your workshop and asked where the closest forge was? Then, when you said… whatever you said, he snapped his fingers and the room burst into flames?'

The witness nods. 'Yes, that's right.'

Dean's eyes are glittering with excitement when he turns to Sam. 'Dude, it's freakin' Vulcan!'

Sam blinks. 'The Roman god of fire and metalwork… And you're excited _why_, exactly?'

**Worst:**

Jess' soft voice pulls Sam back from the brink of sleep and he shifts to face the girl in his arms.

'Sam?' she asks. 'What's your worst fear?'

A thousand scenarios roll through his mind, but none of them stand out. Sam opens his mouth to tell Jess that he doesn't know, but a burst of colour behind his closed eyelids kills the words before they form. The flashes are remnants of a nightmare he'd had the night before.

Sam's arms tighten around his girlfriend and he banishes thoughts of fire and blood and ceilings from his mind. 'Losing you.'

**X-mas**

The card is simple; white, with a cheery Santa on the front. The message inside is just as simple; _Merry X-mass, Sammy._ There is no address or name to hint at who sent it.

For weeks the nondescript envelope sat, unopened, on Sam's bedside table. Jess had been curious when she'd returned home the day before Christmas and seen it beside the bed, but it was addressed to Sam, so she hadn't touched it. In the end though, her curiousity won out.

Now she holds the simple card in her hand, feeling like she's intruding somehow, but not sure why.

**Yelp:**

Sam will deny it, but Dean is almost positive that what he hears is a very high-pitched, unmanly yelp. The key word being _almost_. Only moments previously Dean's head had connected with a very solid, very _hard_, wall and when Sam goes flying across the room a minute later his ears are still ringing.

That doesn't mean he's wrong though; Dean likes to pride himself on only being wrong occasionally, and he's almost positive that this isn't one of those occasions. It doesn't really matter if Sam denies it, anyway, because Dean is _almost positive_, and that's enough for him.

**Zachariah:**

It's not that Dean doesn't like angels… Okay, yeah, it _is_ that he doesn't like angels. But it isn't _just_ that. Zachariah is a dick, sure, but no more so than all the other angels they've encountered. No, the reason that Dean is so set on killing this particular son of a bitch is personal.

Zachariah took Adam. Dean doesn't really know the kid, but he's family and that's enough. He doesn't care how long it takes or how many other angels have to die in the process; he will find his brother and make Zachariah suffer for taking him.

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**Please review!**

**-TaCo**


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